


Cabin Fever

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [31]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Competition, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Emo John, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, How Do I Tag, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, M/M, Post Samaritan, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cia john, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-29 21:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: John gets antsy about staying cooped up in their house, and it doesn't take long for Harold to figure out the problem- John's CIA training.
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Series: The Sinner and the Saint [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/940422
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70





	1. Paranoia

Harold caught John staring out the window one winter morning, to his amusement. Or rather, not staring out the window so much as peering through the blinds. It reminded Harold of the way John would behave when tracking a number.  When Harold softly cleared his throat, John’s eyes darted towards him for a brief moment before drifting back to the snowy landscape. 

“John?” Harold murmured, “What are you looking at?”

John let out an irritated sigh. “Nothing,” he growled, letting the blinds snap shut, eliminating the remaining light from the outside. “It’s quiet.”

Taking a seat on the couch with his cup of tea, Harold nodded. “Yes, I would imagine so. It’s a snow day today, classes are cancelled. I believe my students will all be sleeping in.”

“It’s too quiet,” John insisted, shaking his head. “How long has it been since we’ve heard from Samaritan? A couple weeks? A month?” Before Harold could respond that he was sure John knew the answer to the day, John continued, “How do we know that they’re not planning an ambush? Just watching us, looking for the opportune moment to strike?” With his jaw tightly clenched, John returned to the window. “What are they waiting for?”

Harold, endlessly patient, took a sip of his tea before speaking. “John,” he said, his partner turning to look. He gestured to the spot on the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”   
Hesitantly, John left his post and settled next to Harold. Harold could practically feel the tension rolling off of John’s shoulders. He carefully placed a hand on John’s back and moved it in soothing circles. Ever so slowly, John began to breathe easy, his hands releasing from tightly clenched fists.

“It’s been twenty-four days exactly since any of us have had any contact with any of Samaritan’s agents.” Harold said, “But I know for a fact that you were already aware of that. You are acutely aware of how long you’ve been in any one place for an extended period of time. Am I right?”

John nodded, unsure of where Harold was going. “I guess that’s true.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Harold might have reminded John of a therapist if he didn’t sound so genuinely curious. “We were given very clear deadlines in the CIA,” he answered, “Every day beyond our target dates meant a higher risk of our covers getting blown.”

“I imagine you would get antsy, being stationary beyond your normal mission duration.”

Nodding some more, John let himself relax into Harold’s touch. “The deep cover operations lasted longer but were less frequent,” he murmured, “although more often than not…” He trailed off. Harold could imagine the rest. 

“John,” Harold whispered, gaining his partner’s attention. John’s intensely blue eyes met Harold’s, and Harold continued, “We might still be undercover, but with the Machine’s careful watch and constant contact with Miss Groves, and our… relationship status such as it is, Samaritan is highly unlikely to get the drop on us, for now. You are safe within these walls. Do you understand that?” His tone was not admonishing or meant to make John feel foolish. Instead he was comforting, quieting, calming the frayed edges of John’s nerves. John nodded again, and Harold added, “This house is our home, and as long as I breathe, you have me. I promise you that.” He reached up to cup John’s cheek. “Can you accept that? Can you allow yourself to feel at home here? At the very least can you try? For me?”

Lips quirking into a smile, John leaned in for a kiss by way of an answer.

When he pulled away, John studied Harold. “As at home as I feel within these walls with you,” he commented, “I think it would do us both good to get some fresh air. What do you think?”

Harold smiled back, adjusting his glasses. “I think I’d like to see you at ease. As long as you promise me one thing.” John tilted his head. “Under no circumstances are you allowed to start a snowball fight.”


	2. Fluff

The snowstorm only got worse as the day wore on, forcing John and Harold back inside their warm and cozy abode. Harold brewed up some hot cocoa for both of them as John built up a fire in the fireplace.

“I can’t believe we don’t have any numbers today,” John commented, glancing out the window at the snowfall.”

“The only major threat in the city today is this storm,” Harold replied, “No one wants to commit a crime in this weather.”

“Wish it’d snow more often,” John teased, smirking at his partner.

Reclining on the couch, Harold pondered, “I hope Miss Shaw and Miss Groves are staying warm.”

John chuckled. “Believe me, Root can probably think of plenty of ways to keep both of them warm.” Harold flushed, and John grinned at him. “If it gets any colder, we could follow their example.”

“As… exciting as that sounds,” Harold responded carefully, “I had something less strenuous in mind.” He patted the cushion next to him, and handed John a cup of cocoa when he sat. “There is a… um…” Harold cleared his throat, turning even redder than he already was. John watched as Harold’s face transitioned through the phases of embarrassment. “TCM is hosting a, uh… a John Wayne movie marathon, and I thought… well…”

“You thought what?” John prompted softly.

“Are you a… do you… like John Wayne movies?”

“Do  _ you _ ?”

Harold swallowed, and John’s smile widened. Harold was nothing short of adorable when he was flustered. 

Harold coughed. “I might have… have  _ had _ ... a tiny… inconsequential…  _ slight _ infatuation with him. When I was younger.” Rushing to change the subject, he added, “B-but if you’re not a fan or if there’s something else you’d rather do, we don’t have-”

John interrupted him with a kiss on the lips, which turned into a tender embrace. “I’m happy watching or doing anything almost anywhere as long as I’m with you,” John whispered into Harold’s neck. 

“Be careful with that kind of talk,” Harold hummed, even as he seemed to melt. John adjusted himself so they were comfortably nestled against each other. Harold turned on the TV, landing them right in the middle of  _ Angel and the Badman. _ Sighing contentedly, Harold relaxed into John’s arms. He liked John Wayne, but he loved John Reese more.


	3. Contest

John had drifted off in the middle of  _ The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance _ , but Harold couldn’t fault him for it. The snow was still falling even after the sun sank behind the horizon, blanketing the world in a quiet hush. Harold was relieved to see John finally relaxing after being so on edge.

When the movie was over, Harold carefully switched the TV to a news update about the snowfall. There was a storm warning all along the North East. It look like classes at the University would be cancelled again. He sighed. Without his day job or any new numbers due to the inclement weather, they’d both be hard pressed to stay busy. 

He was startled from his thoughts by the warmth of John’s breath below his ear. Harold’s eyes fluttered shut as John trailed drowsy kisses up his neck to his cheek.

“Thought you were asleep,” Harold murmured.

“I was,” John purred, nuzzling closer, “Looks like we might get snowed in.”

John wasn’t really that concerned about the weather and Harold knew it, and as his heart started beating faster, Harold didn’t care either. “The fire went out,” he observed, “It’s going to get cold soon.”

Looking up at Harold through his lashes, John raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it is. We’ll have to find a way to stay warm.”

John was toying with Harold, and Harold knew it. Tension mounting, Harold pulled John to him by the collar of his shirt and planted his mouth on John’s. John followed his lead effortlessly, sitting up right and straddling Harold’s lap. He could feel harold pressing urgently against his pants, and John took a shaky breath as he reached down to undo Harold’s zipper. Harold reached blindly to help, still kissing John and holding him by the neck with one hand while reaching for his cock with the other. 

When Harold slipped a finger under the waistband of John’s briefs, John let loose a needy whine, burying his head in Harold’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” Harold whispered as he undid John’s shirt. Reaching lower, Harold brushed his fingers across the tuft above John’s member, making John shudder and gasp. “Do you want to touch yourself for me?” he asked, freeing himself from his trousers.

John shook his head, his hot breath against Harold’s shoulder. “I want… Harold, please…”

Harold ran a hand up into John’s hair and pulled hard, forcing John to look up. “Say it,” Harold growled, leaning forward a little to graze his teeth against John’s collar bone. 

“I… I want you to touch me,” John gasped, “I want you to touch me and make me come.”

Harold adjusted himself so that their cocks were side by side. “Would you do the same for me?” Harold purred, “At the same time?”

Nodding, John reached for Harold, but Harold caught him by the wrist. He tilted his head, eyes glinting playfully. “Let’s make this interesting.”

A frustrated moan caught in John’s throat. He wanted nothing more than to grind himself against Harold, feel Harold’s skin against his skin, and come. But outside, the snow showed no signs of slowing, and Harold looked genuinely excited, so John paused. “What did you have in mind?” John asked through gritted teeth. 

“You touch me, and I’ll touch you,” Harold said, barely caressing John’s length, causing his hips to buck. “But if you come before me, you will have to be punished. What do you think?”

John rocked, bringing his face closer to Harold’s. “Depends on what the punishment is.”

Harold hummed. “I’ll think of it while we play. Now are you in?” His hand trailed across John’s chest and he pinched one of John’s exposed nipples. “Or not?”

Setting his jaw, John wrapped his hand around Harold’s length without warning. Harold jolted, but it didn’t take him long to recover and respond in kind. 

They had done this dance a thousand times. They knew how to get the other off, and efficiently. But making it a competition brought an element of excitement. Harold seemed to be in no hurry, watching John curiously to see what he would do.

John started to pant and moan softly, leaning in close to Harold’s ear. Harold started to stiffen, and John felt a rush of pride until Harold reached up with his other hand and dug his nails into John’s back, clawing at his shoulder. John sucked a breath in through his teeth. The slight sting combined with the neediness of the gesture aroused him further, but he ignored the pressure starting to build in his groin. 

Tensing, John pressed closer still, and nuzzled against Harold, breathing down his neck. He trailed soft kisses down Harold’s jaw, even as he tightened his grip and rolled it slowly up Harold’s cock.

Harold started to spasm, so John moaned sensuously into his ear, quickening his own breathing on purpose. He whimpered and whined, and with that, Harold came undone. Harold threw back his head in ecstasy and cried John’s name. 

The look of bliss on Harold’s face and the sound of Harold shouting John’s name echoing around the house drove John over the edge. John rode the wave, with Harold watching as he finished him off. As his orgasm subsided, John rocked himself against Harold’s hips.

Sighing, John leaned forward and relaxed against Harold’s chest. They both took a few moments, breathing in each other’s scent. John basked in the afterglow of Harold’s attentions- the fading warmth, the heady tingling, and now the sting of the red marks Harold had left across his back. 

" So…” John murmured after a minute, “Did I win?”

Harold chuckled breathlessly. “By the skin of your teeth,” he replied, “and it’s a good thing, too.”

John opened his eyes to look up. “Oh?”

Shaking his head, Harold added, “I haven’t the slightest idea how to punish you. To be honest, I’m not sure I could.”

John laughed along with him. “Does that mean a reward is in order?” he joked, snuggling closer.

“I thought that  _ was  _ your reward,” Harold sighed, smiling down at John, “But how about a nice, long…” Harold shivered, wrapping his arms around John’s shoulders, “ _ hot _ shower?”


End file.
